Growing Up With Hunters (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

Sounds Like You're Avoiding Me..

Hey my beautiful supernaturalers. I thought I might add a little humor to your after Christmas, I think we all remember "Yellow Fever." 

Hope you all had a great Christmas. 

Tell me some of your presents.

"Dean." I breathed, kissing his lips for the thousandth time today. I was trying to calm him down, but obviously it wasn't working, cause of the constant look on his face. It was a mix between constipation and being completely uncomfortable. Not a great combination.

I needed him to stop, so I did the only thing I could think of.

"Fuuuuuucckkkk." I tilted his head back as I set my hand over his jeans and rubbed. He never could resist when I did this.

"Hmmmmm." I moaned as he leaned me back, and kissed my neck.

Our session kept becoming hotter and hotter,each piece of clothing coming off with time. 

First his shirt. Then my pants, until we had close to nothing on.

My breathing got deeper, and I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Damn it Dean, please hurry." I said, trying to pull his boxers down. He stopped and looked me in the eyes. He shook his head, I whimpered.

"Someone could walk in." He mumbles, practically pushing my almost fully naked body off of him and onto the floor. 

"Dean, what the fuck?" I yelled at him. He shrugged and pulled on all of his clothes. I stood there watching him, arms crossed, and an evil look in my eye.

"You should put your clothes on. Sam could walk in anytime. Or a maid. Or anyone." He held out my shirt and pants, chuckling to himself. 

He was probably doing this on purpose. I rolled my eyes and stuck my clothes on quickly, going to grab Sam's laptop off the table across the room.  Walking by, I slapped him upside the head, and grabbed the computer, sitting down and researching to find what ever I could.

Dean would give me weird looks, then the clock an angry one. I however, continued to stare at him when he wasn't looking at me with the most evil stare I could conjure up. He caught me once, when he had looked over sympathetically, quickly after fear was the only expression evident.

"I'm back." Sam says, closing the door. He turns and freezes in place, looking down at the broken clock on the floor, Dean staring up at him-beer in hand- and the evil glare I was giving Dean while sitting down. "Did I miss something?" He asks, worriedly, kicking the broken clock away from his path.

"You better find out whats wrong with Dean before I kill him." I snap, still staring down the side of his side.

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you guys about, I called Bobby." He says, sitting down in the chair next to me. "I think Dean has ghost sickness."

"That exists?" I ask, completely confused.

I mean 'ghost sickness' you have to be kidding me. I'm sure ghosts sneeze on you all the time, not.

"Yeah, Bobby found a few things on it." Sam says, leaning towards my ear to whisper something.